A Tool, to be Used
by Angelblaze2007
Summary: "Because I needed a set of able hands with a working brain. Take it from someone who knows better; You're confusing pragmatism with romance and that will fuck you over in the long run, thank me for this." A multi-chapter one shot of Akutagawa wanting to be Dazai's.


As far as operations go today was a busy day. A killing along with two more kidnappings to hand off to a trade group running sex slaves towards the west - they weren't snatching the girls off _themselves_ , that's far too risky. They were based in Japan, no reason to gather too much hatred with the local authorities. Instead they just made sure that no one had a problem, or at least that those who did weren't alive or present at the time of the trade.

Now its rounding towards the evening, dusk is settling in and no one's around, nothing of the Black Lizard or any other high ranking members besides Dazai, whose taken to reclining on a dark green couch in their little apartment hide out overlooking the city, overseeing documents or some form of information. The room is flooding with that orange light and it hits Dazai perfectly, outlining all his finer features, the darkest in his eyes and the curls in his hair.

If there was any time, now's the time. After how many years of wanting to say it, now is most definitely the perfect time to actually go and say it.

So he spends the next twenty minutes loitering about the place with nothing to do, because there is no way in hell that he's going to approach Dazai with this. Getting shot down is inevitable and there's no way some kid from the mire is going to get anywhere near a guy like him, someone so intelligent and devious, hell if he does get accepted he'd be suspicious. After all, why would Dazai love him, out of all the whores he could afford and all the powerful men and women he could be hooking up with.

Dazai's discarded the papers, focused his attention on the laptop on the desk in front of him. It's the perfect time to go and tell him...on the other hand though there's probably something of interest in the kitchen, right? He isn't hungry but-

"Mind explaining why you're still here?"

He turns around and there Dazai is, hands in his pants pockets, leaning against the doorway, none too happy.

"Dazai, sir." Akutagawa puts on his best farce, holding himself straight and with some self respect and pride, belling the inner panic he's going through right now. Does he tell him and risk rejection, laughter or does he lie and get chastised. "I've been meaning to speak with you about important business." Out of all the things to say, why would he claim his feelings, out of anything else here, are important business? Stupid, stupid, stupid, he's going to be kicking himself for that one for hours.

"Out with it."

Perhaps its best to approach it smoothly, with some level of non-romantic appreciation - yes, completely avoid lying but don't tell the truth! Perfect solution. "Well, I wanted to thank you for helping me escape the mire, I would never have had the opportunity to grow or become more without your help. I don't know what I did to catch your eye-"

"You're disgustingly self important." Dazai's glare is like a knife to the chest, Akutagawa bites his tongue and tries to think of something to get himself out of this hole he dug for himself. Dazai has other plans, his foot comes down on the center of Akutagawa's chest, the surge of pain echos through his solar plexus and brings him to huffing coughs, gasping for breath.

"I'm going to squash that right now, understand? You aren't some precious thing I took pity on and decided to curl up under my wing to protect, I respect you more then that. In that same vein, you aren't the fucking apple of my eye and the only thing in my universe, I've got a million spinning plates above my head and you're just one more of them."

"Then why I am here?"

"Because I needed a set of able hands with a working brain. Take it from someone who knows better; You're confusing pragmatism with romance and that will fuck you over in the long run, thank me for this." Dazai stomps on his chest. Akutagawa's cough turns splattery, red in his throat, nothing he hasn't had before, nothing he won't have to grit his teeth and live through again. "Well, let me hear it."

"T-thank you, sir." He'll say that some more too, he'll say it when he's being punched and kicked, ordered to kill the lessers that Dazai didn't want or feel like doing himself. He even mumbles it again when Dazai spits on him and marches away, no less in stature or glory then when he came in. Somehow, that's wondrous. The thought that he didn't feel love or emotion for their coupling earns more than a few tears, but how long did he spend waiting for that chance to confess, knowing full well that he'd be rejected but at the same time not quite being able to stomp out that flickering light of hope that it would be mutual. If anything, he's relieved.

This means that he doesn't have to worry about somehow losing Dazai's attention, so long as he's useful, so long as he's strong then he'll be beside him for a long while. There's dignity and stability in knowing Dazai's decision was pragmatic rather then romantic, it makes everything that much more honest and real.


End file.
